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We got Wiley August 22, 2004. He was only six years old but he
looked and acted much older. The family he lived with before us did
not take good care of him. His claws were so long it was hard for
him to walk, the tips of his ears had been eaten off by flies, his
fur was matted and tangled, his teeth were were broken and chipped,
and he didn't know how to do anything. We weren't too sure about
getting him because of the way he looked, but there was just
something about him.
All the way home he barked at every single car that passed. Maxx,
who wasn't too sure about him either at first, looked like he wanted
to tackle him to the ground just to shut him up. Although, the first
thing they did when we got home was get a drink out of the bucket
together. They did get into fights many times. One was so bad that
Wiley had to have stitches in his ear. In my opinion they were good
friends, they just didn't want each other knowing.
Wiley was very afraid of us at first. He would whimper when we tried
to pet him, and would run the opposite direction when we called him.
Every day from day one we played with him, brushed him, and worked
very hard to train him to do things as small as to wag his tail. I
started to teach him to shake right away. It took seven months, but
he eventually learned. He also learned to walk on a leash, sit,
stay, come when we call him, lie down, and, the thing I am most
proud of, to play tug-of-war. He would only play it with his
favorite stick though, and it was on his time.
Barely a month after we got him, we moved from Southern California
to Montana. All 1150 miles they both came in the back of the truck
together. Only about two hours from our destination did he decide to
stop barking.
In April, we had to take Wiley to the vet because he wasn't eating
as much, was throwing up alot, and didn't relief himself as much as
he should've. He was fine after that. The funny part is, after his
temperature taken, he became very happy and active. he was okay for
another month, then he stopped eating again. He wouldn't eat for
three days, so we took him to the vet again. We have a diesel engine
and he would get real excited when he heard it. He ran as fast as he
could to the truck, but when he got there he collapsed and went into
a seizure. My dad, brother and I lifted him into the truck and took
the 10-15 minute drive to the vet. Seven minutes away he started
breathing really rapidly. Five minutes away, the breathing stopped
completely. When we got there they tried everything but it was too
late.
Just a few days after he died I made a photo album with his best
pictures in it. We also have a lovely wooden box with his ashes in
it above our fireplace. I look at both of those every day. Wiley
became my best friend and I'll never forget how happy he made me
feel.
Just
a few hours after Wiley died we saw a rainbow. The next day, there
was a photo of that rainbow in the newspaper that we cut out and put
above Wiley's picture. A few days later we got a card in the mail
from the vet and it was about rainbow bridge. Exactly a month after
he died we took Maxx and went for a drive. We counted all the
rainbows we saw that day and it was over twenty. How ironic.
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